


truce

by rain_at_dawn



Series: stars, scattered [22]
Category: SHINee
Genre: Band Fic, Character Study, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28532652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rain_at_dawn/pseuds/rain_at_dawn
Summary: 9. things you said when i was crying
Relationships: Choi Minho/Kim Kibum | Key
Series: stars, scattered [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608877
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	truce

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by @chwesbian on Twitter

It had been a long day, but that doesn’t excuse the pressure building up behind his eyes. Minho won’t allow it. There’s a break in-between shoots for the MV, so he sneaks himself out towards the back of the studio parking lot. As suddenly as that near-manic burst of summoned joy he’d pulled out of himself to emote during his scene, it had crashed into a muddling sense of nothing.

He repeats to himself that it’s just another day at work, like all the ones before it. Night was nearing, which meant he would be able to catch at least 90 minutes of sleep before his next schedule; what was it? It takes some time to register that it’s for that sitcom he’d so eagerly – a few weeks ago – had auditioned for. There was a script to review and lines to nail down perfectly; perhaps sleep could wait.

The light from an exiting vehicle catches him off-guard, stunning him into temporary blindness. Seconds later, he’s barely recovering from the shine, eyes close to streaming. Instead, he sniffs and takes a few steps back to lean back against the brick wall of the building.

Minho tries to tell himself he loves his job. Just like that, the words fall apart in his head, into nothing.

“Hey!”

He can tell it’s Kibum without having to look up at his approaching form. Kibum’s presence doesn’t soothe or steady him the way Jinki’s or Jonghyun’s does. If anything, it’s always had the opposite effect for better or worse. Kibum’s manners – or lack thereof around Minho – usually prompted strong responses from him. Except Minho feels anything but that right now.

His mind leaves the impression of Kibum’s shadow that stretches before him the closer he gets and returns to that mountain of a script that lies in wait for him in their manager’s car. He can recall the faint outlines of sentences and what scene he would have to act them out in; he prides himself on his memory after all. It had served him well, perhaps better than the skills he still needed to improve on.

_I love singing, I love dancing, I love acting,_ he continues telling himself, even while each new word sounds more bitter than the last in his head. _I love the long hours, I love being told what to do, what to say, I can’t get enough of that shit._

“Hey…” Kibum tries again, shifting closer next to him. If Minho could block him out, just reduce him to another voice in the night, he would.

But perhaps he wouldn’t want to.

“What’s wrong, Minho? You’re crying.”

Kibum’s wrong as usual. It’s just the dust that gets in his eyes each time a car pulls out of the lot. It’s just the glare from the headlights as they pass them. It’s just the hours and hours spent smiling until his cheeks went numb, and just the mere thought of the hundreds of lines printed on piles of crisp white paper.

“I’m not crying. It’s nothing.”

Kibum stares at him, but doesn’t argue. A miracle in and of itself. Minho must be dreaming.

They stand there for god knows how long. They watch employees leave for the night, heading home where they could shrug off their job titles and accompanying worries, if at least for a little while. Minho can feel Kibum watching him too, but he won’t challenge him on that. He was tired enough.

“Y’know that stylist noona who fixed up Taemin’s extensions?”

Minho does. “Soobin noona.”

He always makes it a point to memorize at least the given names of the staff they work with. It’s the least he can afford them for the time they spend on him and the others.

“Yeah, her. She studies rocket science at SNU. This is just a side gig for her to help pay tuition.”

It’s not so much the content of what Kibum’s saying as it’s why on earth he’s going on about such a thing. Minho turns to him and fixes his eyes on Kibum’s profile in case he’s missed out on something.

“… Cool?” He finally replies.

“I overheard her talking to the other noonas. Not complaining at all, actually. Which is weird. She has every right to.”

“I guess?”

“But you can see it in her eyes. When you look at her reflection in the glass when she’s working on us, you can tell she’s exhausted. Probably hates it.”

“I wouldn’t blame her.”

“Yeah. Neither would I.”

Minho has been watching Kibum all this time, searching for a clue as to why he’s really out here with him. If all he’d wanted to do was to shoot the breeze, then wasn’t that what Jonghyun was better at?

Then there’s another thought that seems too outlandish to speak out loud: is this Kibum’s attempt at small talk? Were they crossing over into a new age of peace at last? Minho supposes he ought to be at least thankful for such baby steps.

“I’ll be okay, you know.” He speaks, more as a reminder to himself than to Kibum. “It’s just… overwhelming. Sometimes.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”

Minho doesn’t know if Kibum’s being his usual condescending self or if he just has no idea on how to come off as sincere. Whatever smidgeon of gratitude he felt is wiped out and the exhaustion settles in again. When he reaches up to rub his eyes awake, his fingertips brush past the dried tear tracks on his skin.

“Here.” Kibum hands him a wet wipe. “Get yourself together. Don’t cry like Soobin noona does in the stairwell when she thinks no one’s looking.”

“I’m _not_ crying.”

He accepts the wipe in any case, balls it up and scrubs hard at his face. His skin is warm; he’ll never live it down now that he’s been caught like this by Kibum.

When Minho finally looks back at him, Kibum hasn’t looked away. Instead, he gestures silently towards the building entrance, back into the studio’s structured chaos. Minho doesn’t dare dwell too long on the depth in Kibum’s gaze, sharp enough to pierce him.

He lowers his head and follows him back inside.


End file.
